Tiff's Game (Perry County Frontier Series) Read online

Page 15


  Tiff spoke with a concerned solemnity, ""Neither have I."

  There was time for planning. In Newport it had been voiced about that Mister Haycock's game would resume the following Friday evening at the Amity Hall layover. The barge would move down on Monday, but Mister Haycock had other business in Harrisburg. He would return for gaming on Friday and Saturday nights. Those interested were encouraged to ride down.

  Tiff reasoned, "The barge gambling must be Haycock's big moneymaker. He's allowing the best nights for it."

  "Bound to be good when you can't lose." Carter was sure.

  "True enough, but Haycock is also careful not to kill the geese that lay the eggs. He takes a nice profit, but keeps moving. By the time he returns, everybody's ready to try again."

  "Yep, it's almost like a celebration when Haycock's barge ties up. People come in just for a look at the important people playing inside. They spend money in the stores, too, and that keeps Haycock's welcome bright."

  Chip added, "Well, it's pocket change that he picks up playing off the barrelhead. He's taking only a little, but it's from a lot of people and it adds up."

  Tiff agreed with some sense of astonishment. "I've watched barrelhead play clean across the continent. Mostly the gamblers are small-timers barely making it, with a shill or two working the crowd to drum up business. The way you folks line up to lose your money is amazing."

  "Well, our people don't know about this kind of thing. They are in town having a little fun, but I'll tell you out front, Haycock doesn't get my money!" Captain Roth was vehement.

  Chip was predictably disdainful. "That's because Hannah won't let you have any. An undisciplined man like yourself would be a sucker for any cardsharp, Roth."

  Carter began to splutter, but Chip asked, "What is a shill, Tiff?"

  "A shill is someone secretly working with the gambler. The shill might only stand around encouraging people to try their hands, but usually the shills play, and the gambler lets them win steadily. Victims see it and just have to get in on the easy money. Of course they lose. A gambler and his shills are a team—they travel together. Without shills, a barrel-top gambler can have a hell of a time getting a crowd going." Tiff grinned, "Not around here, though. Perry Countians must be born with gambling fevers. Haycock doesn't use shills. I'd have seen them."

  Deciding how best to act on Haycock's cheating took more talking over.

  Roth suggested, "Let's wait until he's playing and sheriff him. We'll catch him in the act."

  Chip snorted. "Haycock would announce that the sheriff did not have jurisdiction on the canals or something equally confusing. His hired thugs would line up looking tough. Hell, our sheriff would light out for New Bloomfield at full gallop."

  "We could raise a mob and run him off."

  "Carter—we couldn't raise a mob. Nobody would come. This kind of stuff is always someone else's job. You know that"

  Captain Roth would not quit. "All right. We'll get Tiny and a few tough Pfoutz Valley boys and just lick 'em ourselves."

  Chip threw up his hands. "You tell him, Tiff. Hardhead Roth can't see past a knock 'em down, drag 'em out brawl."

  Tiff had a pretty good idea what had to be done, but he let the others' schemes roll by before he explained his reasoning.

  "Beating the tar out of Haycock might be satisfying, but it wouldn't free up Tiny Doyle. Even lumped up and publicly exposed, Haycock would still hold Tiny to his promise, and by then Haycock would be really mad. Haycock would probably take it out on Tiny and make sure he got pounded even harder than expected. We would only make Tiny's summer fighting worse.

  "What we have to do is win back Doyle's IOU's, then get Haycock off the river for good." Tiff leaned forward in his chair. "Here is how we can do it.

  "First, I will arrange to get into Haycock's game. I'll make it clear that we will be playing for real stakes. With his spy upstairs, he will like that.

  "Of course we will make sure Haycock's spy isn't reading cards. I'll work it around so that Lily is with me. Then it will be me reading the cards.

  "He will know we've discovered his spying game, so I will make it plain to him that he plays or we spread the word about his cheating and how he did it up and down both rivers and into the cities as well. I figure he'll play, and we will take his money until we win Tiny back."

  There were agreeing nods, but Chip was not satisfied. "So what do we do after that, just let him go on working his game? If he thinks you're going to turn him in anyway, he won't bother to play. He'll just button up his barge and keep claiming he's innocent. By next year he'll be back with some other scheme, like nothing had happened."

  Tiff's smile was grim. "I have to agree not to expose his cheating. He will accept my word and play because he will still expect to beat me, and the game will at least buy him time."

  Tiff tapped his deck of cards on the table and quickly dealt Chip four kings and a deuce. Carter whistled in admiration.

  Tiff dealt his own hand face down before adding, "What Haycock cannot know is that I am going to win his barge and anything else he dares to put up."

  Tiff flipped his hand showing four aces and a deuce.

  Chapter 15

  Tiff found Haycock's main helper on top of the gambling barge stoking his pipe. Piling off his horse, Tiff hoisted a heavy leather pouch from a saddlebag and stepped onto the barge. He climbed to the higher section above the gambling room, wishing he could get a look at the spy's secret arrangements just below.

  Tiff sat on the cabin projection, not too close to Haycock's man. He set his bag down, and the dunk of heavy coins was clear. Brown squinted a little.

  Tiff said, "I want to play next Friday."

  Brown sucked his pipe and blew smoke before answering. "The table's full."

  Tiff opened the pouch and tipped it so that fistfuls of gold coins showed. "I'm not talking that twenty dollar pot game Haycock plays with these farmers. I want him to show up with real money—which I plan on taking home."

  The helper's jaw muscles bunched. He was looking down on a small fortune carried casually about the roads in a saddlebag. Tiff could almost feel his mind churning, but the man's voice remained calm. "Where do you want to play, on the barge or in Mister Haycock's rooms?"

  "On this barge, with windows open and everybody watching. I'm going to take his money until he hasn't got any more. Then I'll go for his shirt and maybe his drawers."

  When he said, "On this barge," Tiff felt the helper relax. In rooms, the game might not be so neatly set. On the barge, the gambler's spy made winning a certainty.

  "What game do you want to play?"

  "Blackjack, head to head, just him and me, big bets and fast play. I intend cleaning Haycock until he squeals."

  Tiff figured he had his game, but as Haycock's helper, Brown was thorough.

  "What are you called? You were with that Shatto and Roth up in Millerstown."

  "I'm also a Shatto. Who are you?"

  "Call me Brown."

  "Have I got the game, Brown?"

  It was not to be quite that quick. Brown questioned, "What are you so mad about? We don't want any trouble at the game."

  "I'm mad because you're using Tiny Doyle wrong, and I'm planning on making you pay dearly for it." Tiff paused, "If Haycock's got the guts."

  Brown's smile was a twisted smirk. "Oh, he's got the guts. Question is, what will you do when that money poke starts getting light?"

  Tiff's hand came from his jacket pocket. "Well, Brown, if it gets too light, I'll back it up with this." Tiff opened a leather wallet and riffled through a throat-choking sheaf of twenty dollar bills.

  Brown's voice sounded rough. "You claiming you're playing through that kind of money?"

  "I'm guaranteeing it."

  Brown pulled at his pipe which had gone out unnoticed.

  "Reckon you wouldn't mind if we advertised then, would you, Shatto? You'd like a crowd watching, and the same crowd would keep you from pulling out when Mister Haycock starts choppin
g you down to size."

  Tiff made his voice scornful and overly confident. "Haycock doesn't own the axe to chop at me, Brown. No tinhorn on a barge is going to beat me. I just want to see his money before we begin. Once he starts losing, he ain't going to get away with smiling sweet and claiming he hasn't more money aboard."

  Brown snorted at the implication. "How would Saturday night sound to you, Shatto? Like I said, Friday is spoken for."

  Tiff pretended annoyance. "All right, Saturday, but don't try to slide out of it. I want Haycock across the table and his money stacked beside him, not hid in that bookkeeper's pocket." Tiff grinned evilly. "It'll pleasure me to watch Haycock's pile dwindle and disappear."

  Brown decided to settle a few points. "You've been watching close enough so you know our rules. No lookers-on, but . . ."

  Tiff interrupted. "Like hell, Brown. You and that waiter come and go as you like. I'll just have someone stand by my shoulder,"—Tiff sneered openly—"making sure my cards aren't looked over in passing."

  Brown considered a moment. "All right, one man, but he stays put and doesn't roam around. Mister Haycock will have one man also. I'll be in and out as usual. I got to keep him posted on other things. That rule don't change for nobody."

  Tiff leered, trying to appear just a little stupid. "I won't even use a man, Brown. I'll have my lady friend with a hand on my shoulder so's you will all feel safe."

  Brown smirked. "You mind using our cards, Shatto?"

  Tiff appeared nonplussed, as though he had not adequately considered the question. "Your cards are all right, but they'll be new packs, and I'll look 'em over."

  Brown stood up. "Get there early, Shatto, and don't forget your money. We'll start spreading the word. You got a first name? I wouldn't want to blacken all the Shattos if you start scaring off."

  Tiff appeared insulted. I'm Tiff Shatto, and I won't scare, Brown." His voice taunting, Tiff added, "There'll be a bunch of us riding in, so don't try setting those wharf rats onto me. We'll be watching out."

  Brown laughed in genuine sounding amusement. "Why would I do that, Shatto? Within a couple of hours, Mister Haycock will have your money and probably your horse."

  He started to turn away and then thought better of it. "You'd better have an extra shirt handy, too, 'cause when I tell Mister Haycock you'd like to take his, he'll sure as shooting go after yours."

  Tiff rode across the river bridge and a quarter mile north to where Chip and Carter waited. Roth was obviously relieved to see him.

  "Everything go all right? You get the game set up? Did the money work out?"

  Chip, who lounged comfortably against a tree trunk said, "For God's sake, Carter, Tiff's here. He didn't lose your money."

  Carter still paced nervously, waiting Tiff's assurances. He flared at Chip. "Well, everything Hannah and I've got is in Tiff's bag. It isn't easy having somebody else pour your life's savings out for some crooked gambler to paw through."

  Tiff dismounted, patting the gold pouch lumping his saddlebag. "It's all here, Captain. Yours, Uncle Chip's, and mine. All I had to do was open the bag and give him a look. Mighty impressive viewing. The game is on for Saturday. Brown plans on spreading the word so a lot of people will come to watch big money changing hands."

  Chip laughed and stood up to stretch his powerful frame. "About a half hour into it, he'll be sorry he advertised."

  Carter was still anxious. "You sure nothing can go wrong, Tiff? I can't afford losing."

  Chip looked at his friend with practiced annoyance. "God, Roth, by Saturday you'll be a nervous wreck. We'll have to bring a wagon for you to lay out in."

  "I'm just practical, Shatto. I didn't find my gold lying out on the prairie, you know."

  Chip grinned hugely at the opening. "No, but I always heard that slaving paid well. Too bad your boat sunk and the wrong side won the war. Why you'd be almost rich by now."

  Carter groaned. "Tiff doesn't believe any of those lies, Chip, and we both know I was never a slaver. Why do you keep telling the same dumb stories?"

  Chip appeared offended. "How do I know you didn't captain a slave ship, Roth? You had a vicious crew that was trying to murder your cabin boy when I rescued him, and you had a ring in your ear as big as the ones Lily wears. You could have been a slaver alright."

  Chip mounted, ignoring Carter's exasperated defense. He touched his horse, starting it off while his friend still hunted for his stirrup.

  "Tiff, did I ever tell you about Captain Roth running his schooner onto a river bar, and the army burning it so the rebels couldn't get it?" He raised his voice so Carter could hear. "I'll tell it after you give us the details on the gambling coming up. I think Carter's a little worried about that."

  Brown took the train to Harrisburg. He found Haycock meeting with landowners from Lancaster. Brown knew Haycock had interests there, interests quite separate from his gambling. With his diverse investments, no reverses at cards were likely to place Haycock's comforts at risk.

  Before supper, Haycock had time for his man. He listened carefully, outwardly emotionless, nodding occasional understanding. He let Brown finish before commenting.

  "Does this Tiff Shatto act like a professional gambler?"

  Brown was undecided. "I can say he doesn't look the part, but I saw him watching the play from close up, and he understands the game. He played the barrelhead right, too, although that doesn't tell anything for sure." Brown pulled at his lip. "I'd take Shatto real serious, Mister Haycock. He was trying to sound a little easy when he was setting up the game, but he was smart and dangerous when he came up behind us at Millerstown."

  Haycock shifted angrily. "That was a stupid play, Harry. I'll tell you when I want people beaten up."

  Harry Brown took the criticism easily. "Yes, Mister Haycock."

  "Now, as to Tiff Shatto. It won't matter how good a blackjack player he is. On the barge, we've got him.

  "Here is what I want done. Have Shelly polish the ceiling lenses so he can see perfectly. I don't want any lamp smudge interfering. We won't play long. I'll bet big and take his money fast. Before he can begin to wonder about his run of bad luck, he will be riding home with empty pockets.

  "I want only two chairs placed. He will have his back to the galley. We will have to be fast with signals. Blackjack with only two people will require a little adjusting to.

  "Up in the ceiling, Shelly will signal Shatto's hand to you. You will signal to me. I'll see you right past Shatto without turning my head.

  "We'll use the same old signals. Hand on your chest means Shatto holds fourteen or less. Under fifteen, he's got to take a card or bluff foolishly. Fingering your left ear will mean fifteen, your left eye is sixteen, your nose means seventeen, your right eye is eighteen, and right ear is nineteen. Chin is twenty and neck is twenty-one. Couldn't be simpler, but you and Shelly practice all week. Get Shatto's chair just right, have somebody sit in it and hold cards different ways. Get the lamps hung perfectly."

  Haycock's voice was controlled but cold. "We won't want mistakes, Harry. This Pfoutz Valley crowd is beginning to annoy me. I intend to clean out their champion so slick he will have to borrow to eat."

  "Shatto showed a lot of money, Mister Haycock, and he made a lot of noise about seeing yours out on the table."

  Haycock's mouth sneered. "Then we will show him money, Harry. You bring three men down here on Friday. Have them armed. I doubt this Shatto is scheming to way-lay us, but we will be ready anyway."

  Haycock considered a minute. "Send out some wires and see what the rivers know about Tiff Shatto. If he is a regular player, someone will know. Have our people nose around Perry County. Find out what the locals know about Shatto. I can't see any surprises on the barge, but it pays to be safe."

  Brown nodded assurances. "I'll make sure the sheriff is in the crowd, too. It won't cost much and will stop any excitement from turning mean."

  Haycock patted Brown's shoulder. "Good, Harry. Put out extra lighting. See if some ladies will handle a
food stand. If a few peddlers work it would add to a good time for the yokels. Make us look good all around. Is there time to print and distribute handbills?" Haycock felt opportunity rapping.

  "I will get a few barrelhead boys from down here to offer play because a lot of watchers will feel the need. We will take a fair cut of what they make for setting them up."

  Haycock exhaled in satisfaction. "You know, Harry, if Tiff Shatto puts up the money he showed you, this will be the biggest night we have ever had—many times over."

  Haycock again touched Brown's shoulder. "Good work, Harry. This will be one to remember."

  Chapter 16

  Carter still worried. He and Chip sat along the wood line looking across the plowed fields of their valley. They had settled with familiarity onto a giant chestnut log, so long fallen that its bark had broken away. The log gave perfect sitting height—their feet touched without cramping or stretching.

  Carter produced an old sailor's knife and began increasing the width and depth of a cut across the log. He worked on the slice, enlarging it each time they retired to the log.

  Chip had his own carving to labor over. He was behind Roth because he often forgot to bring a knife. Chip's was to be a large letter S, handsomely tapered and carefully incised.

  Carter said, "All this magic stuff gets my guts rumbling, Chip. I liked it better when I thought it was tricks and sleight of hand."

  Chip sighed in resignation. "So did I. Seeing the things that Tiff and Lily can pull off makes me wonder who else can do stuff to us that we don't even know about."

  Carter's knife froze in place. "Of God, I hadn't thought about that. I just meant that I don't enjoy not being able to understand how such weird stuff is possible." It was his turn to sigh. "You sure aren't helping any."

  "Well, I don't know any more about it than you do. Tiff has always been able to know things nobody else did. When he was a boy, it was sort of fun." Chip smiled in memory. "About drove his brother and sisters wild.